On the morrow, splendour of sunshine drew him forth to some distance from the town. He went along the lanes singing; now it was holiday with him, and for the first time he could enjoy the broad golden daylight, the genial warmth. In a hollow of grassy fields, where he least expected to encounter an acquaintance, it was his chance to come upon Christian Moxey, stretched at full length in the company of nibbling sheep. Since the dinner at Mr. Moxey's, he had neither seen nor heard of Christian, who, it seemed probable, was back at his work in Rotherhithe. As their looks met, both laughed. 'I won't get up,' said Christian; 'the effort would be too great. Sit down and let us have a talk.' 'I disturb your thoughts,' answered Godwin. 'A most welcome disturbance; they weren't very pleasant just then. In fact, I have come as far as this in the hope of escaping them. I'm not much of a walker, are you?' 'Well, yes, I enjoy a good walk.' 'You are of an energetic type,' said Christian, musingly. 'You will do something in life. When do you go up for Honours?' 'I have decided not to go in at all.' 'Indeed; I'm sorry to hear that.' 'I have half made up my mind not to return to Whitelaw.' Observing his hearer's look of surprise, Godwin asked himself whether it signified a knowledge of his footing at Whitelaw. The possibility of this galled him; but it was such a great step to have declared, as it were in public, an intention of freeing himself, that he was able to talk on with something of aggressive confidence. 'I think I shall go in for some practical work of a scientific kind. It was a mistake for me to pursue the Arts course.' Christian looked at him earnestly. 'Are you sure of that?' 'Yes, I feel sure of it.' There was silence. Christian beat the ground with his stick. 'Your state of mind, then,' he said at length, 'is more like my own than I imagined. I, too, have wavered for a long time between literature and science, and now at last I have quite decided--quite--that scientific study is the only safe line for me. The fact is, a man must concentrate himself. Not only for the sake of practical success, but--well, for his own sake.' He spoke lazily, dreamily, propped upon his elbow, seeming to watch the sheep which panted at a few yards from him. 'I have no right,' he pursued, with a shadow of kindly anxiety on his features, 'to offer you advice, but--well, if you will let me insist on what I have learned from my own experience. There's nothing like having a special line of work and sticking to it vigorously. I, unfortunately, shall never do anything of any account,--but I know so well the conflict between diverging tastes. It has played the deuce with me, in all sorts of ways. At Zurich I utterly wasted my time, and I've done no better since I came back to England. Don't think me presumptuous. I only mean--well, it is so important to--to go ahead in one line.'